Tracks of my Tears
by TLCar1
Summary: If life Is a virtual rollercoaster than mine is just a line of flat tracks & I like that way. My mother saw to it that my life was flawless, no dips, no curves and no loops. As long as we can control as aspects of our life then there is no need for those thrills. So, control is what I seek and I seek it from the only man who's set on controlling me. We he put a kink in my track.
1. Chapter 1

I don't own the rights to any of these characters. The Vampire Dairies and its creators own the rights to these characters.

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This is a Damon and Elena only story. There's no Kathrine, no Stefan, and no Caroline. All other characters used in this story are manifestations of my own free mind.

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_**Prologue**_

Life is like a virtual rollercoaster. Now, there isn't actually a train or even any tracks. But it's still full of ups and downs, twists and turns, and the best ones. The most thrilling ones have a few loopity loops. Just to keep it interesting.

Mine on the other hand was as adrenaline free as they come, a flat track with only a slight bit of a curve every now and then. The death of my mother more than six years ago was the biggest thing to happen to me in my twenty-six years. My life had been a pretty smooth ride. My mother made sure of that at any cost. Even after her death, my life remained a smooth ride. See saw to it.

She taught me that if you can't control it, you shouldn't let it control you and that life is as smooth and as flawless as you make it. Since then I've spent most of my nights, weekends and any free time that I had here, in the one place that control is never frowned upon. In fact it's praised.

I've been coming to this particular club for the better half of two years, since I transferred to UCSD. I was happy when my old club administrator was able to give me the recommendation, bypassing the mandatory background check and waiting list.

But, after five years in the club scene this was the first application I've filed to a submissive. My heart dropped into my stomach when I heard that he was accepting applications for a new submissive. He hadn't taken a Sub since she left and he hadn't collared anyone since I've been a member.

He spent as much time at the club as I did, if not more. He never spent more than a single night with the same female. Some night, most night, not sharing time with any women at all, only watching, and I spent my nights watching him. I didn't always watch him, but there became a point when watching anyone else just didn't do it for me anymore. I knew then that it was him, that he was the only one I could submit for. The only one I'd be able to surrender to and seek enjoyment from it.

So, I waited and waited. I knew the time would come again that he'd need someone to submit to him and only him. All Dom's have that need to possess someone, solely for their own pleasure. Finally that need has consumed him once again. Now I just need him to want to consume me in that same way.

**_Chapter 1_**

My heart's been beating out of my chest since I received the call this morning, confirming the second stage of the application process. Dinner, limits, and talk of the needs of both the Dom and the Sub.

"Ms. Gilbert." A tall, well-dressed man with salt and pepper hair and marble like orbs calls out my name from the end of the bar. He isn't who I've been expecting. He must have been disappointed by what he'd seen and sent the suit to send me on my way. I do my best to stand tall and steady on wobbly legs. Pulling some cash out of my clutch, I toss it down on the bar top next to my half full tumbler. I make my way over to the older gentleman.

"I at least thought he would be gentlemen enough to take me to dinner before turning me away," I harp at the older man. It's not his fault but I need someone to take it out on.

He doesn't even raise an eyebrow at snide commit. "Ms. Gilbert if you'd please allow me to escort you to the car…"

"No, I'm good," I cut him off before he can finish his statement. "I have my own driver, thank you."

No curves, there are no curves in my track. I will not allow this to put a curve, a loop or even a slight downward hill on my track. It's fine, there are other Dom's out there, other clubs. I'll wait. I'll find another Dom that pecks my interest.

My strides are short, neat, and unrushed in my tight navy pencil skirt and five-inch black stilettos. My feet hit the edge of the curb and he's still behind me. Then he's gone. The door to the town car directly in front of me opens and there he is in front of me. His hand out reached, his eyes down cast. "Did you change your mind on dinner Mrs. Gilbert?" He never lifts his eyes to me. He just waits for me to take his hand.

The elder gentleman that was sent to collect me rounds the front of the car and steps into the driver seat. I lower my eyes to the dirty city street. Showing him that I can submit to him, no matter what my words are about to tell him. "Stage two. Is a public dinner to discuss needs, limits and boundaries."

"Ms. Gilbert, you can get in my car or you can get in yours. However my car will be driving away with or without you in the next ten seconds and if you're not in this vehicle this will be the last time that we meet." His blue orbs finally locking on my downcast ones.

I'm his. There's no question about it as soon as those blue spheres are pointed in my direction. I'm melting, bowing, for him, to him. My hand reaches for his without having to think twice about it, my body sliding in next to his in his slick town car.

When he leans across me to pull the car door closed, I'm enveloped in his scent. He's not dowsed in cologne. He smells heady, clean. Like shampoo, body wash, and sex. Arousal, the car is filled with the scent of his arousal. Or is that mine?

"Where are we going?" I question him when he returns to his seat a full body's length away from me.

"Dinner," his one word answer all I get.

"Did you not approve of the restaurant?" I question again.

His gaze is upon the passing city, outside his tinted window. "I don't dine out with my Subs," he pauses. Keeping his head turned towards the window, he drops his head slightly and he regards me from under his thick lashes. "Or potential Subs," he continues. "But we'll get to that when we go over limits and needs." His gaze is back to the window and that's the end of that conversation and all conversation.

The silence is killing me. It's deafening. "Do you not talk to your Subs or potential Subs either?"

"Subs aren't needed for conversation. If I wanted someone to talk to I would date. So, no I don't feel the need to socialize with them or with you for that matter."

The car comes to a halt and Mr. Salvatore waste no time exiting the car. There's no awaiting hand for me when my door opens and Mr. Salvatore is already making his way towards the well lite house. I wouldn't be joining him. I decide in that moment. He's not the same man who I have watched in the club for the last two years. Something is different and I'm assuming it's just me. Perhaps I rub him the wrong way. However, I don't need for him to continue his verbal assault on me to know that I'm not what he's seeking. No matter how much I want him to be what I need.

"Ms. Gilbert, are we really going to play this game again?" He stops his movement but he doesn't turn back to look at me. He has his hands inside in slacks pockets, causing his pressed grey suit jacket to bunch at the bottom.

"I'm not here to play game." I don't address him by name because I haven't been informed as to what he prefers to be addressed as and I have no plans to find out either. "I think it's safe to say that this was a mistake. It's clear that we aren't a match."

He doesn't respond, turn or notion that he heard me.

"If you could please have your driver return me to my car, I would greatly appreciate it."

He begins to move towards the house, his narrow hips moving with purpose as he gets closer to the front door. "Eric, will drive you home after dinner," he shouts but even as he shouts it's as if there is little effect to bring his voice up that high.

"Ms. Gilbert," whom I'm come to relieve is Eric whispers to me. "I won't be driving you anywhere until after your dinner. So, unless you want to sit out here and wait for your driver at make the forty-five minute drive out here. I suggest that you join Mr. Salvatore for dinner in the main house."

"He's not as bad as me seems," he informs me when I stay planted in the car. Eric reached his hand out and waits for me to take it.

"If I leave here in tears, I'm blaming you," I give him a weary look. "And I haven't cried in almost six years. So, it will be a good one."

"I'll hold all the blame," he says holding his left hand to his heart. I reach for his out reached right hand. "Good night, Ms. Gilbert," he says as re releasing my hand.

"Aren't you coming in?" Suddenly I'm scared to go into the house alone.

"No. Mr. Salvatore will call me when you're ready to go home. I'll be seeing you soon." I raise one eyebrow at him. "I assure you."

"Good night, Eric."


	2. Chapter 2

disclaimer: I don't own the rights to these characters, only to this story line.

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Note to readers: This story is rated M for strong adult content. Not recommended for anyone under the age of 18.

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**_Tracks of my Tears_**

**_Chapter 2_**

The house is empty. Not of things, but of people. There's not a person in site. No, butler, maid, or even a dog. For such a huge house, I'd of thought it'd be filled with staff.

The only sound is the echoing of my heels clicking on the tiles floors. I make my way down one hall, then another. I've turned into a parlor, a library, and a restroom the size of my kitchen. All in search for the dining room, Mr. Salvatore or any other member of his staff.

I can't believe he just left me to find my own way. Turning the next corner, I find shadows flickering against the hall wall. It appears to be candles coming from the adjoining room. Sitting at the head of a large mahogany table is Mr. Salvatore. Resting comfortably, in the large high back dining room chair, his body's relaxed and he's glaring at me with every bit of sexiness that he has.

"Took you long enough," his words are caulis and harsh. However his face is soft and light.

"My apologies, I couldn't navigate my way through your beautiful home." My voice is soft and low, apologizing for the fact that he was rude and left me to find my own way. I know that everything that he's doing is probably a test.

"Have a seat. Don't want diner to get cold. Duck isn't good severed cold."

"Duck?" My stomach falls to the floor. Duck, didn't he read my application before setting up stage two? I take my seat, staring at the plate in front of me. I can't bring myself to pick up my silverware.

"Is something wrong Ms. Gilbert?" He asks taking in a fork full of his duck.

I don't answer I just stare at the plate. I'm worried that this is yet another test. To see how far I'm willing to go for him. How much of myself am I willing to give up for him, to him? Am I willing to change what I believe in order to submit to him?

"Ms. Gilbert, It has to be full disclosure here or this doesn't work."

"I don't eat meat." I pause for a moment; I can't hold it back though. I need to know. "Didn't you read my application before setting up stage two, before wasting both of our time?" I question but I can't look him in the eye, embarrassed that I'm already questioning him. I know that I have to be able to give up control if I want to remain in control. However, I don't understand what's going on.

"No matter how I answer that question, I'm going to seem like the bad guy." He raising his water-glass to his lips, washing down the duck he'd just bitten into. "If I tell you I read your application, I'm curl for serving you eat."

"And if you didn't read it?"

"Then you'll have a hundred questions as to why you're here?"

"So, which is it?" I ask finally raising my eyes back to his, but I'm not met by the same sexy glare that I was met by earlier.

"It's not your place to question. I'm the Dom, you're the Sub. I do what I feel is fit, what I feel is right. If that makes you uncomfortable then don't submit."

"Are you going to ask me to eat that?" I point at the plate with disgust; just the sight of it is making my stomach turn.

"No, as your Dom," he paused a moment. "As a Dom, I'll never ask a sub to do something that goes against their beliefs or makes them uncomfortable."

I cover my plate with the napkin to my right. "You just answered my question. You didn't read my application." I stand, "I'd like Eric to drive me home now. I don't know where this is going or why I'm here. I do know that if you didn't read my application then this arrangement will never work."

"Sit down Ms. Gilbert." His voice is stern. It's the voice I could imagine him using while directing me during a scene. My body reacts, sitting, promptly.

He tugs the napkin from his lap, tossing it across his plate. Rising from his seat, he moves from his end of the table to mine. He opens his jacket pocket and pulls out a bundle of neatly folded papers. He pushes me plate from in front of me, placing the papers in front of me.

It's my application. His long, slender finger points at the two boxes on the first page, both marked off with a big red check mark. "This is all I needed to see, this and the name of the person applying."

"It's not that simple." I tell him.

"Did you lie? Are you not will to try anything?" He looks at me puzzled.

"No, No. I'm willing to try anything that you're experienced in and I'm willing to try anything that you're not experienced in with guidance off another Dom…."

"Then, you're not clean."

"No! I mean yes… Fuck." I say his eyebrow raise. I know with must Dom's profanity is a no, no. "Yes, I'm clean."

I grab the application, flipping page after page. When I reach the page I'm looking for. I can't even bring myself to make eye contact with him. I hand the application back to him, open on the final page.

His mouth is a gasp; I can feel his eyes back on me. "Hey is this possible?"

"I told you it wasn't that simple." My cheeks feel like they are on fire. "I'll be taking that ride home now."

"What the hell is this?" His voice is raised; it's no longer the controlled Dom voice. It's now the scary I'm pissed as hell voice. My mother's pimp used to use. "I've seen you at the club. I've watched you, for years. How can this be?" He waves the papers in front of my face.

I'm dumfounded. Not because of his anger but because of what he said. He's seen me? He's watched me? Has he wanted me as long as I've wanted him?

"Answer me Ms. Gilbert? How?"

"I was waiting…. Waiting for a Dom, the right Dom," my voice is squeaker then I like.

"Right Dom. I get that, that's fine. I get that for all the other stuff. But you haven't done anything, nothing?" He's standing directly in front of me, the crisp pagers now crumpled in his hand. His breathing is hard, heavy and fast. "For god sake, have you even kissed a man before?"

I nod my head no. I've never been ashamed of it. I've always been proud of it. Except in this moment, he made me feel like it's the biggest mistake I've ever made.

I watch the pagers fall to the floor in slow motion. His hands are on my face, hair, arms, my side, my hips. He's pulling me towards him. Yet, not touching me with anything more than a graze of his hand. "How is it possible about that no one on earth has ever touched this beautiful creäture before?"

He's leaning in like he's going to kiss me. I can feel his breath in my lips, his fingers gripping my hip tightly.

"I've been waiting?" I want my lips to brush his as I say the words but they don't.

"Waiting for what?" I can taste him on my lips as he speaks, my tongue darting out against my lips to collect even more of him.

"To be dominated." My words are breathy, no more than a whisper and he pulls back.

"Fuck…" He groans, "I don't know if I can do this. Take something like this from you."

"My submission?"

"Your first kiss," He says.

"You can't. Not without my submission." I need him to understand without having to explain myself, that I've waited for a Dom and I wasn't giving even a kiss to anyone without submitting first. He has to allow me to submit. He has to become my Dom or he can't take it.

He nods his head in understanding, releasing my hair. "Kneel. Put that pretty little ass against those heels and head against your knees."

I didn't need to be told twice. This is what I'd been waiting for. I tried to move with as much grace as possible, kneeling before him as he asked.

"Is this what you want Ms. Gilbert?"

"Yes, more than anything." I don't need to think about, second guess it. This is all I've thought about how the fact that he wants me too, even after tonight, makes me want him even more.

"Why are you here Ms. Gilbert?" He pets my hair. Showing me he's here to support me, even though I'm on my knees before him.

"To submit to you, to fulfil your every need and desire, to serve you in every way you want and need."

I both hear and feel something fall at my side. He kneels next to me, his knees straddling mine. I can feel his skin touch mine and if burns, in all the good ways that it should. That I thought it would. "Look at me, Elena." It's the first time that he's said my name and if I'd thought the room was burning before, it feels like it's on fire now.

When I look up at him, his eyes are blazing. His hands arm in my hair again and it hurts because I want him to tug it harder, be rougher. But he's being gentle, soft. "I need to have Eric take you home now."

I want to shout scream "no" at him, but I know I can't now. I'm his Sub and I have to do as he says even if it's to leave. His lips brush mine and it's soft and gentle but only for a second. Once his tongue brushes mine he has me laying on the floor, his body pressed against mine. Every inch of him is touching every inch of me.


End file.
